CleanUp to Aisle Three
by DinerGuy
Summary: Shawn's stuck at the store, and it isn't because of long lines. He probably should have listened to Juliet ... Nah, being held hostage is much more fun.
1. This Might Be Messy

EDIT: FF seems to have taken all my punctuation out the first time. I apologize; I think this will fix it ...

This story has taken forever to finish! I had the original idea months ago, but I just now got around to completing it. I rather like it, though. :)

A big thank you to Lost for stalking me as I wrote most of it, offering commentary, and contributing suggestions. Also, thank you veggiewoppa for betaing the completed product, as well as helping me end the thing (it didn't want to be finished) and the title. And apple jacks jules for the moral support last night. ;) You three are made of win and awesomeness.

Psych and all of its characters belong to the original creators. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made.

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It was a quiet evening at the station. The night staff were going about their normal duties, but over near the detectives' desks, it seemed quite deserted.

Which was just fine with Juliet. She was enjoying the peace and quiet as she finished up several stacks of paperwork. They had occupied space on her desktop for the better part of a week, but she hadn't had a chance to deal with them previously. When they began taking over her workspace, she had decided to put in extra time. Staying late outweighed searching for an empty surface during the workday, and far outweighed a lecture from Lassiter.

As she was filing the last document, her phone rang. Wondering who would be calling her so late, she picked up the receiver.

"Jules!" a familiar voice greeted her.

"Shawn? Why are you calling at this hour?" she asked, shutting the drawer and sitting back in her chair.

"Well, I knew you'd be there to pick up."

"How – Never mind," she sighed. "Is everything all right?"

"Not exactly."

"Shawn, why are you whispering?" Juliet's stomach clenched. She sat up straighter, and her mind spun through the different possible reasons for his tone.

"See, I'm in a …" he trailed off.

"Shawn? Shawn, where are you?" she prompted. "What's going on?"

"I'm at the Stop 'N' Go on 5th Street. There's a robbery in progress. One suspect. Three hostages." His whisper grew a little more tense.

"Including you?"

"Ah … no. I'm in the bathroom. He didn't clear it yet."

So that explained the slight echo she could hear. "Is he armed?"

"Yes, a handgun. I'm think he just has one clip, but I'm only eighty-nine percent sure of that. Maybe ninety."

"Okay. Just stay where you are." She was already halfway out of her seat, digging in a desk drawer to locate her purse.. "We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Okay. Jules?"

She paused. "Yes?"

"There's a kid." She rarely heard that depth of emotion from Shawn Spencer. "Hurry."

Her stomach even tighter, Juliet sped through the process of calling in backup, then rushed to her car. She dialed her partner on the way.

In the bathroom, Shawn was just hanging up when his attention was drawn beyond the door. Several crashes and frightened cries made him tighten his hand into a fist. Disregarding the fact that he was safer in the stall he currently occupied, he crept to the door to the main store area, cracking it open as quietly as he could. What he saw made him forget anything Jules had said about staying put.

The clerk was sprawled on the floor behind the counter, his protruding feet the only indication that he was even there. From his viewpoint, Shawn couldn't tell if the young man was simply unconscious or worse. The only other occupants of the room were the intruder and the customers, a woman and her young daughter.

The man was yelling and waving his arms like a madman – which Shawn supposed he was. Anyone who would invade a convenience store and take people hostage had to be at least somewhat insane.

It was difficult to make out what he was saying from across the store. Shawn held his breath, hoping to hear something that would give him an idea of a way to calm the guy down.

When the man turned slightly, Shawn's eyes narrowed in thought. The similarities between the man and the child huddling behind her mother in aisle were uncanny. As suddenly as it had come, the confusion cleared, and Shawn realized what was going on. What he had thought was a robbery was actually something very different.

Reaching around the woman, who was doing her best to keep him away, the man tried to take hold of the little girl's arm. Shawn had had enough by then. He knew full well that it probably wasn't in his best interest, but he swallowed and did it anyway.

"Hey!" he called, stepping from the doorway. "What's going on?"

All three turned to face him. The man's eyes widened slightly, and Shawn noticed the resemblance even more.

"Where'd you come from?" He swung the gun in Shawn's direction, his hand shaking as he gripped it tighter. "You weren't here a second ago."

"Good observation," Shawn nodded, raising his hands in front of him. Hopefully he could keep the man at-least-somewhat calm long enough for Jules and Lassie to arrive. "You know, it's a long story," he continued, forcing a chuckle. "You want to hear it all, or just the condensed version?"

"None of it! Just tell me where you were." The man's eyes darted around, trying to make out the shifting shadows in the shop. "If anyone else is hiding, you'd better come out now!"

"It's just me," Shawn assured him. "I happened to be in the bathroom when you came busting in. I had one too many smoothies this evening."

"I don't care," the man snapped. "All I asked was where you were. Can't you just answer a simple question?"

Shawn shrugged. "Never been a strong suit for me."

"What –" he broke off as sirens began wailing in the distance. "How'd they get here so fast?" Keeping his gun trained on his hostages, the man backed towards the door, checking to be sure it was locked and pulling several displays of sunglasses and postcards in front of it.

"Get behind those shelves," he instructed, waving them to a spot out of sight of the glass store front.

They scrambled to do as they had been told, Shawn making sure he stayed between the other two and the gunman.

"You know this won't do anything for you," Shawn spoke up.

"Yeah? What do you know?" the man sneered. "Maybe I just need the money."

Shawn laughed, his eye once again taking in the fancy shoes and suit pants. "Right. Sorry. Unfortunately, I am a psychic. And the spirits are saying you're well off and don't need any money. They are telling me, however," he wiggled his fingers by his head for dramatic effect, his mind flashing through the newspaper articles he'd read the day before, "that you are here for her. Leonard," he added.

The woman on the floor - Katie, the papers had called her - gasped. "How … how do you know that?" she asked.

"Quiet!" Leonard demanded, his eyes even wider now than before. He flexed his hand on the grip of the handgun. "What does it matter to you? The judge took Kelsey from me. He took her from me when he had no right to! All I want is my little girl back!" He was sweating now, and his voice was rising in pitch; he was growing more and more agitated as the memories surfaced.

Finally something in Leonard's mind snapped and his eyes hardened. "That's it. I'm done here." He reached for his daughter again, causing the child to whimper and press closer to her mother.

Shawn had seen the calculating glances towards the back door and realized what Leonard was thinking. "Leave her alone."

Leonard whirled back to face Shawn, the gun clenched tightly in his shaking hand. "Stay out of this!" His trigger finger twitched as he leveled the weapon at the other man.

"Hey, hey." Shawn held his hands out to his sides. "Jumpy, are-"

He never finished his sentence.

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Shawn wasn't sure how much time had passed before he was again aware of his surroundings. It was like coming out of a dark tunnel; the voices on the other end were becoming steadily clearer. He could feel something cool against his forehead.

At first, he couldn't remember what had happened, but as awareness slowly returned, so did his memory. He remembered the sound of the shot, the pain, the way the bullet had spun him to the side. He remembered falling, trying to catch himself, and the flash of light he had seen just before everything went dark.

A groan of pain made its way past his lips as he became more fully awake.

"Sir?" a voice whispered above him.

Shawn shifted slightly, causing him to again grunt in pain, and opened one eye. He didn't feel like opening them both, and he saw no need to at the moment.

Katie was kneeling beside him, holding a wet towel to his forehead. Her eyes still showed fear, but now Shawn could also see concern for him.

"Guess ... guess I'm lucky you're a nurse, huh?" he asked, wincing at the headache pounding in his skull.

Her brow furrowed slightly. "Yeah." She licked her lips and swallowed. "I'm sorry you got shot," she told him.

"Don't worry about it."

"It looks like the bullet missed anything vital, which is good, but you're losing blood pretty quickly," she continued. "You need to get to a hospital." Looking over her shoulder towards the front of the store, she continued, "But I don't think Leonard's going to let us out anytime soon."

With some effort, Shawn turned his head to follow her gaze. Leonard was crouching behind a stack of soda cans, peering out the window. Strobes of red and blue lights came through the windows along the front wall, telling Shawn that Juliet had come through.

Now if only he had better news to give her. Somehow, his vision of helping the police catch the crazy gunman hadn't turned out the way he'd hoped.

His thoughts were drawn back to his own situation when the pain in his arm seemed to double.. Wincing, he looked down. Katie was tightening her belt around the makeshift bandage on his arm.

She shook her head in apology. "I'm sorry; the gas station has a limited supply of towels, and they're mostly washcloths for cleaning purposes. They soak through pretty quickly"

From somewhere close by, a child's whimpering could be heard. Katie turned her head towards the sound. "It's okay, Kelsey," she soothed.

The little girl didn't look convinced, even when Shawn turned and offered her a smile. Then again, Shawn thought, she probably wasn't very excited by the sight of a man lying on the ground covered in blood.

"How are you feeling?" Katie asked him.

"Okay," Shawn answered slowly, trying to focus on her face. She was pretty, with dark eyes and light brown hair, and at any other time, he would have been flirting with her. At the moment, though, he was in too much pain to seriously consider doing so. "My head hurts."

She managed a small smile. "That's understandable. You hit the corner of that shelf when you fell; it knocked you out for a few minutes."

He had been right, then. "I-" he began, only to be interrupted.

"Shut up." Leonard had stalked over from his position by the window and was glaring down at them with his arms crossed. His right still held the gun.

Shawn blinked up at the man, opening both eyes to take everything in.

"I want you to tell me how to get out of this," the man demanded.

"Seriously?" Shawn asked. "You do realize you just shot me."

"You're also a psychic!" he snapped. "Now tell me the safe way out of here."

"Look, Lenny - can I call you Lenny? The cops have most likely circled the building already. There's no way you're getting out of this."

Leonard's confused expression turned irate. "You called them, didn't you? You have a cell phone?"

"As far as I know, most people do," Shawn replied.

Spit flew from Leonard's mouth as he angrily clarified his question. "I mean with you right now!"

"Oh. Yes, actually." Shawn answered. "Do you want it?"

"I don't believe you!" The man let out a half-crazed chuckle. "Give. Me. The. Phone. Now!" His trigger finger twitched as he leveled his weapon at Shawn's chest. 


	2. Yep, It Is

"All right, all right. No need to do that again." Reaching slowly into his pocket, hampered a little by using his left hand to reach into his right pocket, Shawn withdrew the iPhone and stretched it up towards Leonard. "Here."

Snatching it from his grip, Leonard flung his arm to the side, sending the device flying into a rack of chips across the aisle. A shattering noise could be heard as the phone fell to the ground.

Shawn winced at the noise, then glared at him. "Are you planning to replace that when we're done here? That was the first phone I've managed not to break or lose within a week of -"

A voice from outside interrupted him.

"This is the SBPD! We have you surrounded; come out with your hands up." Shawn recognized Lassiter's voice, which was undoubtedly aided by a bullhorn. "I repeat, come out with your hands up."

Leonard's head jerked towards the front door, and Shawn could practically see the wheels turning in the man's brain. Before Shawn could do anything, however, Leonard had stalked over to the little group on the floor and grabbed onto Shawn's good arm.

"Hey!" Shawn yelped in pain. His already throbbing headache intensified as he was yanked to his feet.

The apparent discomfort of his prisoner didn't seem to affect Leonard one bit, and he dragged Shawn over to the front of the store. He gave Shawn a push towards the door.

"Unlock it," he demanded.

Shawn slowly moved the display racks to the side, wincing at the pain that shot through his arm as well as his head. A _plop_ reached his ears, and he looked down to see red on the floor. A quick look at the towels on his arm showed that they had soaked through and were now leaking down his shirt; the liquid not absorbed by the fabric of his polo was making its way to land on the floor by his feet.

He barely had time to register this, though, before Leonard prodded his back with the gun.

"Move it!" the man snarled. "I'd hate to have to put another bullet through you."

Shawn would have retorted, but he was busy fighting off a wave of nausea that had suddenly engulfed him.

Leonard didn't bother to see why his hostage was hesitating; putting an arm around Shawn's neck, he kicked the door open and stepped outside.

The officers at the front of the building raised their weapons at the sight of two of the occupants emerging. Leonard had been expecting that and swung his own gun to rest on Shawn's temple.

"Anyone makes a move, and I'll shoot him!"

The others hesitated at that, looking to the detectives for direction. Lassiter and Juliet wore determined looks that had only deepened when Leonard and Shawn appeared.

The right side of Shawn's previously-green polo was now soaked with blood, and the front of Leonard's shirt was absorbing some of it as well.. A clump of wet, red cloth was pressed against Shawn's arm, held in place by a belt that also glistened in the light. A concerning amount of blood was running down the tail of the belt to drip off the end and land on the ground beside the two men.

Lassiter's glare hardened when he saw the situation in front of them. He'd known it was too much to hope that the consultant would listen to Juliet and stay in the bathroom. From what he'd seen of this perp so far, the head detective was pretty sure Leonard wouldn't have cleared the stalls very quickly, and Shawn would have been fine. Now they had a hostage situation on their hands, and he was willing to bet that Shawn's antics were the cause of it.

His partner's face stayed stolid, but her eyes betrayed her worry. Even though Juliet had told Shawn to stay put, she had had a sinking feeling that the situation would escalate. Even the smallest things could set a robber off, and there was no guarantee that this guy would be on his way as peaceably as possible for an armed thief.

Leonard took advantage of the pause to make his demands. "I don't want anyone to get hurt, so I'll make this simple. You get me transportation out of here and a guarantee that I won't be followed, and I'll let this psychic go. If I don't have what I want in five minutes, I'm going to give him a few more holes."

Lassiter grimaced. "That idiot told a robber he was psychic?"

Juliet gave him a pointed look but was interrupted when McNab's voice came through Lassiter's radio. As Lassiter stepped away to talk quietly into his handheld, Juliet addressed the man holding a gun to Shawn. "Sir, we're working on it. It might take us longer than five minutes to get you a vehicle, though."

"Don't play games with me!" Leonard yelled. "I know you like to just stall until you can get a shot at me. Well it's not going to work this time!"

"She said she was trying," Shawn spoke up. "You do realize she can't just make a car appear?"

Leonard darted a look at him. "You've gotta be kidding me. Can't you just shut up?"

Behind the door of the police car, Juliet was wondering the same thing. "We're doing our best," she called back.

"There are five cars right there!" Leonard returned. "Give me one of your cruisers, and I'll be on my way."

"Dude, you do realize they put trackers in those things, don't you?"

Juliet closed her eyes in exasperation. "Really, Shawn?" she muttered to herself.

This announcement seemed to have changed Leonard's mind. "Fine," he snapped. "But I want a car in ten minutes or he's dead!"

Shawn swayed on his feet and probably would have fallen over if it weren't for Leonard's arm around his neck. He blinked several times in what seemed like an attempt to quell the blackness that was eating at his vision. "Is it ten now? I thought we were at three."

Just then, Lassiter returned to his position next to Juliet. She looked over at him expectantly, momentarily tearing her complete attention from the scene in front of the building.

He leaned in near her ear to avoid letting Leonard see what he was saying. "McNab and Williams got through the back; apparently this guy didn't think to block that door."

She gave him a barely perceptible nod, keeping her eyes on the man with the gun. Before she could ask if Lassiter had a plan yet or if the other hostages were all right, movement inside the store caught her eye.

"Well?" Leonard nearly screamed. "When is that car getting here?"

"Soon," Lassiter bellowed back. "We'll get you a ride out of here soon. Look, why don't you just hand over your weapon and end this. You know you can't get far."

"Oh yeah?" the man shot back. "If you hold up the entire deal of _not following me_, I think I can." He was getting more and more agitated as the exchange went on, and he waved his gun hand for emphasis. "Now get me that car!"

This was just the opportunity for which the others had been waiting. As soon as the gun moved from being pointed at Shawn's head, Juliet mouthed _'duck'_.

Shawn obeyed but, in typical Shawn fashion, went two steps further, knocking Leonard's arm away and diving to the side. The sudden move threw the other man off balance, and Shawn darted for the police line. However, he still seemed to be fighting dizziness and tripped over his own feet in his hurry.

Before Leonard could recover his balance enough to take a shot at his escaping hostage, the door of the store burst open and McNab rushed out, tackling the man and knocking the gun from his grasp.

As Lassiter strode over to where Leonard was being cuffed and read his rights, Juliet hurried towards Shawn, who was picking himself up off the ground. When he looked up at her, the pseudo psychic's grin was tainted with a grimace.

"Hey, Jules. Nice night, isn't it?"

"Shawn." She shook her head at him. "How's your arm?"

He ignored the question and stretched his neck to look past her. "How are Katie and Kelsey?"

Just then, Williams rounded the corner of the building with a woman and little girl. They must be the Katie and Kelsey to whom Shawn was referring, Juliet thought, judging from the look of relief that crossed Shawn's features.

He tilted forward, tottering on uneasy feet, and Juliet put a hand on his chest to keep him upright. "Shawn, sit down," she ordered. When he looked like he was going to object, she added a firm, "Now."

One of the officers had called for an ambulance, and its wail could now be heard down the street. In the meantime, Juliet knelt beside Shawn and turned her attention to his arm. The wound had stopped bleeding, but a few rivulets of blood still made their way down his arm from the soaked towels.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him.

"Fine," he said flatly. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his pained expression told her he was lying.

She crossed her arms and pulled out the voice she usually reserved for those holiday weekends when her nephews got too rowdy. "Shawn."

He blinked up at her. "Yes?"

"You've been shot in the arm ..." she trailed off as she caught sight of the bloody patch on the back of his head, "and the head? Shawn, what happened to your head?"

"Oh." He reached up to gingerly touch the gash. "I may have hit it on a shelf."

Juliet sighed. "Anything else that you forgot to tell me? And don't say you're fine, because I'm not buying it."

"But, Jules, I'm not trying to sell you anything," Shawn pouted. Wincing again, he put his hands to his head. "Ow. But you would buy something from me if I were, right? I mean, you have to admit that I'm at least as cute as one of those cookie-peddling Girl Scouts."

Before Juliet could reply, the ambulance screeched to a halt beside them. She moved back to give the paramedics room to work, ignoring Shawn's pleading look to rescue him from the inevitable hospital visit. Giving him an encouraging smile, she stepped away as soon as she found out to which hospital Shawn would be taken.

Pulling out her phone, she dialed Gus and then Henry as another ambulance arrived on the scene and the second team of paramedics rushed into the building. They soon came back out, rolling the cashier on a gurney.

Shawn's best friend and father would be meet Shawn at the hospital, and the detectives would stop by as soon as they finished their responsibilities at the scene. Juliet was fairly certain the doctors would only require Shawn to stay overnight for observation and release him the next day. After that ...

She shook her head and smiled to herself. After that, it was probably going to take a direct order from the chief, maybe more than once, to keep Shawn away until he had recovered enough to work again. Because if there was one thing Shawn Spencer was, it was persistent.

Her smile faded slightly as she watched the ambulance pull away. A little voice in her head, one that sounded suspiciously like Shawn, was pointing out, "See, psychos like this guy are why I didn't go into retail. I'd hate to be the clerk who has to clean up this mess."


End file.
